creators. It deprives the game of the
blank spaces necessary to get me
speculating. Hyper Light Drifter
excelled at this. Even now, I couldn’t
strictly tell you what the exact plot of
that game was. I can tell you what I
felt and imagined as I explored, how
poignant the melancholy was in a
protagonist struggling to fight for
their world in the face of a fatal
illness. Solar Ash has
none of that. It has
characters chatting, its
world is littered with
lengthy audio logs, and
the story is so
dreadfully
straightforward I
imagine most will see
its singular twist
coming from the start, making the
eventual reveal feel a little tiresome. I
do smile at Rei’s little chuckles on
pulling off a successful trick, though
- there are definitely some gains from
the inclusion of voice acting.
Dialogue doesn’t have to be
antithetical to evocative storytelling.
It’s possible to enhance a world’s
mysteries with the right words,
having characters imply meaning or
depths that we ourselves might not
glean from visuals alone. The
dialogue of Solar Ash just isn’t very
good. It’s all expository or functional,
with the character archetypes so
broad they’re left paper thin.
Visually it’s so rich and its imagery
sometimes truly striking, that it feels
a waste to slap explanations on it all.
The giant figure who tries to crush
Rei throughout could be mysterious.
A malevolent entity or uncaring god?
Instead, thanks to the dialogue we
know exactly who they are and what
they want. Several encounters that
circle the same threadbare plot
assure us of that. Our plucky heroine
is so by the numbers too. There’s a
small complication that enters the
mix due to the aforementioned twist,
but it only does a little to elevate Rei
as a character. Why doesn’t she tell us
about home? Give us an impression
of what she’s fighting for?
HACK N SKATER
Speaking of fighting, combat is
certainly an oddity in this game.
Movement replaces combat as the
centrepiece of the game compared
with Hyper Light Drifter, but it clings
on all the same, even retaining
familiar sound effects and a satisfying
slash of the sword. It’s far more basic
though. Despite the simplicity, it’s
terribly unforgiving in the early
portion of the game. One or two hits
will see you sent back to a checkpoint
,and with the slippery movement it’s
hard to avoid incoming attacks.
Things don’t so much become easier
as the game flops between lengthy
segments that are a total breeze and
others that are a borderline
nightmare. That doesn’t stop it being
satisfying when it
works. Sliding through
a room, striking
enemies as you zip
passed, refusing to
slow, is really cool, and
the game does reward
you when you can rise
to its expectations.
When it comes to its
skating, Solar Ash manages to stay
exhilarating enough to make it worth
the price of admission on its own.
It reminded me of The Pathless,
which feels like a close brethren.
Both strong in art style while
pursuing a profound sense of motion.
Solar Ash falls behind by failing to
find harmony between its means of
navigation, with anything but skating
feeling like a halt whereas in The
Pathless flight, sprinting, and sliding
all chain together until it’s possible to
bound across the map for miles,
possibly in its entirety. Both games
have a repetitive structure, yet Solar
Ash’s feels far more pronounced,
thanks to samey bosses and simpler,
less varied puzzles. The Pathless
wisely saved combat solely for its
boss fights, a lesson Solar Ash
should’ve learned from some of its
other influences.
BOSS GRIND
Its bosses are a bit of a let down. For
sheer spectacle, they’re impressive.
Truly massive giants that become
entire islands unto themselves.
Avoiding their attempts to squish you
by weaving in and out of scenery is
one of the game’s finest moments.
Once you get on their body though,
they’re indistinguishable from the
obstacles you had to overcome to
reach them, racing down their backs
to hit various weak points until
you’re permitted to stab them in the
eye. Having to do it three times,
every time, feels like a wild over-
estimation of how much these fights
have to offer. That they so blatantly
evoke Shadow of the Colossus only
hurts it further, illuminating the
absence of a real struggle with little
to no back and forth between you
and your foes. Team Ico’s classic
nailed down the David and Goliath
feel – by making you feel tiny and
helpless, sure, but also by permitting
failure. You could fall over, take a
tumble, and still climb back up. A
single misstep in Solar Ash gets you
punted to the nearest save point so
you can start the sequence over
again. By turning bosses into these
obstacle courses, they’re reduced to
artifice. I never felt like I was in a
deadly duel with a gargantuan foe. I
felt like I was having a go on a
novelty skate park, animatronic limbs
flailing around while sound effects
complemented my sick tricks. Which
is still pretty enjoyable in its own
right thanks to how well the game
nails the feel of skating.
That’s the thing, it’s never bad. In
fact, it’s a fun time all in all! The
skating is sublime. I just never, ever
shook the feeling that something
weightier or substantial was missing.
Hyper Light Drifter haunts me like a
broken memory, leaving me to try
and piece it back together even years
later. This is a half remembered
dream already. A pleasant dream, but
fast fading. My kingdom for the game
Solar Ash could have been.
70
Despite its numerous
strengths, Solar Ash
unfortunately fails to
skate free from its
influence’s gravity.
VERDICT
Dialogue
doesn’t have to
be antithetical
to evocative
storytelling
ON RAILS SECTION
A timeline of Solar Ash’s highs and lows
Silence
Mildly
chatty
On and on
and on
Why are
they
talking?
CHAT
Weeeeeee! I
love skating!
Oh God, they won’t
stop talking.
This final
area is
kinda
Why are they cruel.
still talking?
DAMN! A
game really
looks like
this?!
Solar Ash
REVIEW